Somewhere On The Road To Nowhere
by lwbush
Summary: A prophecy requires Buffy Summers to die, and become someone else.
1. Part One

Somewhere On The Road To Nowhere 1

Somewhere On The Road To Nowhere

Author: Lori Bush

Feedback: lwbush@charter.net 

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, etc. own Buffy. You know the routine. Elaine Maguire was one of my daughter's favorite sixth grade teachers, and is modeled after the real woman.

Distribution: Let me know, 'kay? Any list it's sent to is cool.

Summary: Another prophecy, but this one means that Buffy Summers has to die, and become someone else.

Continuity: It's all over – Glory's gone down, Spike's been dealt with

Pairing: B/X 

Rating:PG-13

Author's notes: The entire "Fly" CD by the incredibly talented Dixie Chicks inspired this story, especially the songs "Heartbreak Town," and "Cold Day In July." I let Buffy sing "Goodbye Earl" in the story just 'cos I love that song so much.

Unbeta'd.

~**~

Xander's been bugging me to start writing in this thing, so here I am. He and Giles agreed before we left that there should be some kind of record of our journey, and since what they feel is important has to do with the whole Slayer me thing, I get stuck with the writing.

I wonder if it's okay for me to call him Xander in this? I'm assuming that by the time anyone sees it, we'll be home again, safe, and free of the need to disguise ourselves. Besides, it's so hard for me to remember not to call him by name when we're out – by his real name, anyway. I admit, I'm getting better, though. Yesterday he bumped the cart into me at the grocery store, and I said, "Watch where you're going, Al." He said in the truck afterwards that he was real proud of me, even if he did get yelled at. I just call him "honey" most of the time, but he calls me "babe" a lot, so maybe he has trouble remembering sometimes, too.

Oh, man, Buffy, just start in the middle, why not? This "thing," first off, is a journal of my travels with Xander. It's meant to be a supplement to Giles' Watcher's Diary, since he's not with us to report on everything. I kinda figure it'll be a number of years before anyone actually reads this, anyway, so some background would be of help. The reason we left Sunnydale in the first place is probably a good place to start.

Things had been rough on all of us. Well, on me, mostly. My mom had died, I was protecting my sister Dawn from this god, Glory, who wanted her, although she didn't know it was her, exactly, as a Key to open the door to some demon dimension. This stuff's all in Giles's Diary, so I don't need to go back over it, except the important stuff to the story here. We managed to beat Glory, but as she was going down, there was this huge flash of energy expelled, right at me. Xander, being him and all, threw himself in front of me, and we were both swallowed in it for a moment. When we came to, the rest of the gang was gathered around us, checking our pulse and fussing like they always do when someone gets hurt. But we weren't hurt – we were fine. In fact, we both admitted to feeling pretty good – although we compared notes once we got off on this little road trip, and let me tell you, we decided it was most definitely not the kind of feeling one usually gets from being attacked. Unless you're into S&M, then you might feel that kind of good from getting attacked. Anyway…

Things calmed down for a while. We'd defeated what seemed to be our largest challenge so far, and all the vamps and demons backed off right afterwards. Giles managed to get my father to give up his fight to take custody of Dawn, and had moved into our house, bringing his books and furniture and a little taste of bedlam along, until he finally got everything arranged. We fell into a familiar pattern of patrolling and training. Spike did go a little psycho on us (check the Watcher's Diary here, too – I so don't want to go into it), but we were triumphant in the end, as we usually are. We don't always win, but we're still walkin' and talkin', so I'd say we do okay.

Then those freaky demons started attacking me. Xand and I were out patrolling the usual dead spots, when this ugly orange thing that could best be described as a tall shark with legs, and snakes in place of hair, and green glowing eyes, jumped out at us. And trust me, I made him sound good there. "You bear the Finality, and you cannot live," it proclaimed in a voice that would have made fingernails on a chalkboard sound refreshing. A real charmer, that one. Its announcement of nonsense made, it dove at me, claws outstretched and snakes snapping. This was not going to be a simple stake and run kill, I suspected.

Was I ever right. Xander and I both got in some serious blows, but we had little effect on it. He grabbed a big fallen branch and began beating on the thing's back, while I was just doing all I could to keep the monster off my own front. It was strong, but not very fast, so that helped. After what seemed like way too long, Xander clobbered it one time, its green eyes rolled back and the thing groaned. Master of the obvious, Xander yelled, "I think I just found a weak spot, Buff."

"Hit it again, make sure," I called back. He did, and the creature grunted and looked hopelessly pained. "I think you may have found the demon equivalent of the family jewels there, Xand," I called back encouragingly. Why do men automatically wince when that's mentioned?

I pulled the knife from my waistband and held it up. "You up to this, or should I do it? He shrugged and held up his hand. I tossed the knife in the air in his direction, and he snagged it easily as it arced by. There was a time, a few years ago, I'd have never thrown a knife in Xander's direction unless I really wanted to get rid of him, like permanently, but he's become more confident and capable in the past year or so, and I didn't even think twice.

"Hate to do this to you, guy, but maybe you could get evolution to arrange for your species to develop a less painful vulnerability next time around," I heard him mutter before sinking my knife into the thing's back. It screeched, and dogs for miles began to howl. As it sank to its knees, I could see the look of sympathy on my friend's face. Then the monster was little more than a pile of iridescent goo on the ground. Xander's hand slid down to his own groin, in sort of a protective, "there but for the grace of God go I" gesture, and I walked over, plucking the knife from his other hand. As I bent down to wipe the blade off on the grass, I said, "Well, time to go to the Magic Shop and play 'Identify the Demon' with Giles."

"I'll take 'Singing Soprano In Hell' for a hundred, Alex," he cracked as we headed off.

~**~

"That's it," Xander hollered when he saw the picture.

"Impossible," Giles insisted.

I wandered over to glance at the sketch. "Oh, that's our Mr. Congeniality, alright, Giles. Not a face one quickly forgets."

"This is not a fighting demon," my Watcher said with determination. "It's a Recidivus demon – they deal with prophecy and omens. Other demons go to them for information, but they've never been known to attack."

"Maybe they're branching out," Xander suggested. "Trying something new in the new millennium."

"So you're saying we were attacked by the Watcher of the demon world?" I asked skeptically.

"More like the Council, Buff. I've seen this guy get his hands dirty before." Xander waved his hand towards the older man. 

Giles sent a weak smile of thanks toward Xander, before frowning again. "What were his exact words to you again?"

"You bear the Finality, and cannot live," I recited in monotone. "What the heck's a Finality, anyway? Is it a curse, or a scar? Do I have something on my back?" Xander made great show of checking out my rear, and I turned and gave him a threatening look. He answered with one of those adorable puppy-eyed innocent grins of his. Then he got serious.

"Maybe whatever this Finality thing is, he's seen it in the prophecies and it scared him enough to come after you in person," Xander guessed.

I shrugged. "You gonna see if you can find it in the books, Giles? I really wanna go home and get a shower. Whatever it was that put the stick up that demon's butt, he's gone now, so I can relax, right?"

He was distracted, absorbed back into his reading. Finally, he looked up, my words having soaked their way through the text into his brain. "Oh, uhm, yes. Of course. Perhaps you should keep Xander with you, however. In case our demon told some of his friends." His head dipped back down, and I knew he wasn't even going to hear us say goodbye. We did anyway.

When we got to our house, Xander called Anya and told her he was staying on our couch. I couldn't hear her words, but I could hear the whine across the room. I wondered sometimes how he put up with her possessive nature, then I remembered how hard she'd been trying lately. Maybe if I'd been a little more like that with Riley… No, don't go there, Buff. Let it go.

It was a good thing Xander stayed, because we had a visit from another one of those Recidivus critters not long after I got out of the shower. Xand had changed into a pair of sweats and a tee shirt he always kept at my place, and I was in my own jammies, when this thing came bursting through the front door, screaming about the Finality and going for my jugular. Since we'd dealt with the other one, we knew just what to do, but we were both a bit winded before we finally made goo of this guy.

We fell in exhaustion onto the couch. "You know, Buff, I get the feeling we aren't going to get a lot of sleep tonight." Xander looked up, seeing a frightened teenager on the stairs. "Come on down, Dawn. I think we all should stay at my place. After I board up that door, that is."

I looked at him in question, and he knew just what I was thinking. "They apparently know where you live. I doubt they'd find my apartment. And since I wasn't coming home, Anya will be at her own place. Bring your sleeping bag, Dawn. Buff, call Giles and tell him to stay at the shop tonight, if he wasn't going to already." He got up and went looking for a hammer and nails, while Dawn and I threw some things into a bag, and we left soon after.

It just felt safer there, and he insisted I sleep in his bed, Dawn on the floor beside me. It was odd, smelling like it did of Anya's perfume and Xander's aftershave instead of my own familiar scent, but I was worn out, and didn't spend long thinking about it before I drifted away.

There were random attacks all the rest of that week – Xander had taken to spending all his off time with me, which went over like a lead balloon with Anya. But he insisted, rightly so, that it took two to kill these Recidivus things, and we two had it down to a science at this point. Only after the first few, it started to be a variety of demons – apparently, the prophecy monsters had called in the troops. I was still staying over at Xander's – Giles and Dawn were back in the house, but although the demons seemed to know I wasn't there, they were having trouble figuring out exactly where I was. I'm sure the ban Willow and Tara put up helped, too.

One night, a little ways into this new routine, Xander came home and sat me down. "Look – these demons aren't letting up. We need to do something – get you out of here. I've spent some time talking to Giles, and we've got a plan. I'm warning you, though, it's a little drastic."

A little drastic? I have to remember, this was Xander Harris, master of understatement, talking here. Even though he'd worked it out with Giles, I still couldn't believe what they'd come up with. I couldn't believe my staid and cautious Watcher would even agree to such an idea. It scared me, when I stopped and thought about it, because it meant that Giles thought things were pretty bad.

Giles had gotten in touch with Angel, and they'd arranged for Faith to be released and come to Sunnydale to take over my Slayer duties. They just told her she'd be helping me out, but it was all going to be her baby. After all, I was going to be dead.

Yup, dead. Since they'd figured out that these demons weren't very good trackers, Xander and I were going to stage our own deaths – an auto accident, his truck, big bang and lots of fire. No identifiable bodies. Oh – it only gets better from there. Only Giles and Angel would know we weren't really in that truck. So Willow, Anya, my sister – they all still think we're dead.

Giles had gone to some underground connections he knew from running the magic shop (not the most mainstream of businesses – he meets all kinds) and arranged us new identities. We were going to be Alan Leonard and Emily Anne Harper. He got to keep his real initials, and I got to keep my real middle name. Yeah, we're posing as a married couple. Xander explained that we'd need to stay close together, both for safety and for financial reasons, and it would be simpler if we were married. And although he had a funny kind of sad but satisfied grin on his face, he promised he'd sleep on the couch every night, or the floor, or whatever, and I did believe him. I knew how much he loved Anya, and that this was a bigger sacrifice for him than it was for me.

I had to dye my hair back to its original color – kind of a milk chocolate brown. I hadn't worn it that shade since I was thirteen, though. We discussed colored contacts, but it seemed like too much trouble. Xander started growing a beard – now that I think about it, he still is. He's never actually grown one; he just always looks like he's about two or three days since his last shave. I wonder how he does that? In the five months we've been on the run, I've never actually seen him clean-shaven. He's cut his hair all off again, too – it looks a lot like it did our senior year in high school – short on the sides, with it a bit longer on top. Most of the time, I cut it for him.

He's lost weight, as well. I don't think that was intentional, but we don't eat as regularly as we once did, and when we have food, he makes sure I get the most, and get it first. And he's still working construction, so he's burning a lot off, and what's left all seems to be going to the muscles across his chest. He looks good – I'd be a fool not to notice.

We left all of our clothes behind, and went to the Salvation Army for our wardrobe. Giles bought an old pickup truck for cash – clear, untraceable title in our new names – and the night we "died," we left Sunnydale, not knowing if we'd ever be able to return.

~**~

If this looks sloppy, it's because I'm writing in the truck. We're running again, which is okay. I didn't much care for northern Texas anyway.

The first place we stayed, after we left California, was in Nevada. We drove forever, it seemed, and found a little place with a cheap motel that didn't look too flea-bitten. We still had money from Giles at that point – lots of it, we thought. We were being careful, we weren't staying at the Ritz or anything, it'd last. If I'd know then how many times we'd sleep in the back of that damn truck with no more than a tarp over our heads, I'd've made him stop at the even cheaper motel we passed up because he said it reminded him of where Faith used to stay.

We checked in as Alan and Emily, and set up the coffee maker we'd bought at Salvation Army when we got our clothes. Our disguise look was 'white trash,' and this place was full of tenants for whom it was no disguise. They rented by the week, and we decided to go for a whole week, see if we could find work, stay a while. We only managed two weeks – I found a waitress job, but Xander couldn't find a construction crew that was hiring. Apparently it was the off-season. So we moved on.

We flipped a coin – heads we went north, tails, south. It came up tails, and the next place was a little suburb of Phoenix. We found another rent-by-the-week place, a bit nicer than the last, and we both even found work. I wouldn't have minded staying there a bit longer, but it wasn't much more than a month before we came across a vampire doing what vampires do, and we did what Slayers and Slayerettes do, and staked the sucker. So we had to hit the trail again.

See, Giles had been adamant about that one thing – he knew he couldn't stop us from defending people – it was in our blood. So he made us promise that if we killed any Things That Go Bump In The Night, that we'd get out. 'Cos they tend to come in packs, and if we killed one, there were sure to be more. And if there were more, we'd want to kill them. And if we killed a bunch, word would get around the demon grapevine that a new Slayer had set up shop in, say, Phoenix. And maybe one of them would be smart enough to realize that it might be the *old* Slayer, the one they wanted dead. The one they thought *was* dead. And we'd have done all this work of disappearing for nothing, because they'd come find us again. Maybe someday I'll get back to Phoenix. I liked it there.

I didn't care for New Mexico – too dusty. We spent a couple of days in Oklahoma, too. Now we're heading for Missouri, to try and settle for a while again.

~**~

At least we were in Texas long enough to be able to save up some money. We've found another place to stay, this one a week-to-week furnished apartment, with a real kitchen and everything. Okay, more a kitchenette – it still beats cooking on a hot plate. Although we still can't afford much more than soup and macaroni and cheese, at least I can warm it all up in real pans. I was thrilled to set up our loyal little coffeemaker on the counter.

We stayed last night in a little town called Jennings, Oklahoma. If you've never heard of it before, join the club. We slept in the truck because we'd already decided we were heading for Missouri, and we were funny that way. We always decided on a state before we left, and did what we had to do to get there. So that was just a stopover. Now we're here, in our new temporary home - Rolla, Missouri. It's not too bad a place. 

We've stayed in some pretty small towns. We've stayed in some big places, too, but rarely for long. Xander figured out early on that white trash looks less obvious in rural areas, where everyone lived pretty much hand to mouth, particularly if there were still working farms. Rolla is enough of a town to have a Wal-Mart, and more than two gas stations. It's not too far from Jefferson City, the state capital. But the people here are good, salt-of-the-earth kinda folks, who know poverty as a family friend, and don't question it when it visits with others. It wouldn't be hard to hide in plain sight here.

We've also discovered that vampires and demons tend to shy away from the smaller places. I guess the food supply is too limited or something. The further we are from a metropolitan area, the fewer dead, undead or should-be-dead things we see. And since we were pretty tired of being on the road so much, that was a decided plus in our book. Tomorrow we look for jobs.

~**~

It's been a couple of days since I last wrote. Xander found construction work, although the crew has to travel every day to near Jefferson City. But because it's so far, it pays a lot better, too, so he's dealing. I think it's a state highway crew, actually, so he gets benefits and all. Insurance. That's good, because we're gonna need it, and we've never had it before.

I wasn't quite so lucky, although there's one gal that owns a hardware store that took pity on me, and told me of a couple places she thought needed waitresses. She even said that if they couldn't use me, to come back and see her again, and she'd see what she could do.

See, I don't have much of what you'd call experience. I waited tables the last time I ran away from Sunnydale, and I knew I was capable of that, but that was about all. There weren't a lot of places that could use a Slayer. Particularly one that was six months pregnant.

Oops, I guess I forgot to mention the baby before this, didn't I?


	2. Part Two

Somewhere On The Road To Nowhere 2

Part Two

~**~

Two nights before Xander and I left Sunnydale, Giles called us and told us he'd found something in the books that we needed to know about. I didn't know then that he and Xander were already planning this whole "Thelma and Louis" getaway for the two of us, but I'm guessing this kind of moved the timetable up a little. We scurried on over to the shop, and were highly relieved that none of my demon fan club seemed to be on the streets that night.

You always know it's bad when Giles says to sit down. "Buffy, Xander," he greeted us. "You two had better sit down." After we did, he took his glasses off and polished them with his handkerchief – another bad sign. Once he replaced them he breathed deeply. "I've found a prophecy about the Finality." Then he didn't seem to have anything more to say.

The silence hung in the air and dragged on forever. "Uh, G-man? You gonna tell us what it was, or do we play Charades? Is it bigger than a breadbox?" Xander was trying to joke, but I could see he was reading all of my Watcher's road signs like I was, and they all pointed to a major wreck ahead.

"The Finality will be a new Slayer, born of a Slayer, that will close the Hellmouth and rid the world of demon life entirely."

Sounded good to me. "Well, that's pretty cool. What's the prob?"

I can still see his incredulous face. Like I'd asked if I could sleep with Angel again, because I thought having Angelus around would liven things up a bit. "Did you not hear what I said? A Slayer, *born* of a Slayer…"

"You bear the Finality," Xander quoted quietly. "Buffy, are you, uhm, sick? Hungry all the time?"

I was starting to get the drift, and I was more than a little furious. "I am in no WAY, SHAPE or FORM pregnant!" I screamed. "You have to sleep with *men* to get that way, last I heard. I sleep with Mr. Gordo. He's a polyester stuffed pig! And I have for MONTHS! Nobody – no how. Completely man-free zone since Riley left." I slumped down in my chair. "This is ridiculous."

"Well, she has the mood-swings thing down pat," Xander said. I hit him. Harder than I should have. He still had that bruise a week and a half later.

"Forget it, guys. I'm no candidate for Immaculate Conception, either. Just because I haven't lately doesn't mean…"

"We know, Buffy. More than we ever wanted to," Giles said in a pained voice. "I still believe you should monitor the situation. Watch for the signs."

"You mean, other signs besides huge orange guys telling you that you're carrying the Savior of mankind and the end of demonkind?"

"I'm sure that isn't what he meant, Xander," I said stubbornly.

He shrugged, and turned to Giles, "I guess I'd better get the little mother home," he said, standing.

The bruise from that kick lasted even longer than the first one did. And he limped for days.

~**~

I think the morning sickness started just before we left Phoenix. It came mostly in the late afternoon, though, but I still knew what it was. Xander wasn't the least bit surprised, or if he was, he never let me see it. He started picking up Saltines when we went to the grocery store, because he'd heard somewhere they helped the nausea, and that was when he really started forcing even his food on me. He made me drink three glasses of milk a day when we weren't on the road.

And I did indeed have mood swings, although they weren't as bad as I think Xander was expecting them to be. Usually, I just cried over what I'd done to him. That I'd taken him away from his girlfriend, his good job, and now I was saddling him with some bastard child I didn't even know how I came by. Usually, he'd get all serious and tell me there was no one he'd rather be with than me, no place he'd rather be than right where I was, and that the baby wasn't a bastard, because as far as the whole world knew, we were married. Then, because it rarely made me feel better, he'd hold me until I stopped crying. One time, I'd asked him why he did it – left everything to come with me. He wasn't in any danger if he'd stayed, and I could have done this whole nomad thing alone, probably. He'd just shook his head, and smiled a funny way, and said he *had* to do it. He never explained any more than that.

That was when he started sleeping in the bed with me, too. He'd been fine on the couch, most nights, on the floor on others. He said he hadn't slept in a decent bed for most of his life, so it didn't bother him. But being alone, and scared and sick and moody bothered the hell out of me, so one night he tucked me in and turned to go to the couch, and I grabbed the back of his boxers and wouldn't let go. "Stay," I insisted. With my other hand, I patted the bed beside me. "Here." As emotional as I'd been that day, I think he was afraid I might shred his underwear and then start taking apart what was inside if he didn't agree. He was a hell of a lot nicer to sleep with than Mr. Gordo had been.

Nothing happened, of course. We still wake up once in a while with a stray limb thrown over on the other's side, but it's just the knowledge of another person, there, that was the whole point. Not even touching each other, although as small as some of the beds we've shared have been, it would be a bit hard to avoid that. Especially now that I'm – expanding. It was a lot like sleeping together under the tarp in the bed of the truck, but more comfortable, and with less clothing.

Now he's saying we need to go see a doctor soon. I know he wants as much as I do to still be in this place in three months or so, when the baby is born. I know somehow he thinks of it as his own kid, too. I bet he doesn't have the same fears I do about it, though. I mean – how was it conceived? Might it be a little – weird? And what would happen once she's born? It'll be a she – I'm certain of that. Slayers always are. And since the prophecy is the only thing I have to cling to that makes even a shred of sense in this whole deal, I'm holding on tight.

I'm afraid, now. It's getting so close. This could be awful or wonderful, and knowing my life, I'd like to place lots of money on awful. It's a fairly sure bet. I'm tired, and I still don't have a job, and now I'm all worried about the baby. Xander's lying over there in bed, talking about doctors and hospitals and insurance, while I finish up writing here. I know one thing for sure right now – I want him to really hold me while I sleep tonight. I'm scared, and that could help me get over it. I'll worry about everything else tomorrow.

~**~

Okay – things have been a little hectic. I got a job at Mrs. Maguire's hardware store. Elaine – she says I should call her Elaine. I've only been there a few days, but I can already see she's barely making enough money to keep her lights on. I don't know how she's gonna pay me. I really don't care that much – at least I'm out of the apartment, and have enough to do to keep myself from dwelling on all the rest of my life. If she can't pay me, I won't sweat it. I've worked for free as Slayer since I was fifteen, anyway. At least cashiering for non-existent customers is safer.

Xander took Tuesday off work and dragged me to the doctor. We looked just like any other young expectant couple, sitting in the waiting room. I read the year-old Glamour magazine, while my 'husband' flipped through an equally out-of-date Sports Illustrated, not paying a bit of attention to the words and barely even registering the pictures. I wondered why he jumped when they called for Emily Harper, until I remembered that was me. We followed the nurse obediently to the little room. She took my blood pressure, checked my pulse and temperature, and gave me a little cup to pee in – standard stuff. Xander covered his eyes while I took off my clothes and put on the big paper tent they called a robe.

The doctor did a perfunctory examination, told me the projected due date, what hospital he worked with, gave me a number to set up arrangements with them. I was a little over six months, which was about what I'd figured. Then he did the sonogram.

It was real. A real baby. Before I saw the pictures, it was just this – growth. Sure, it wiggled and kicked in there. It even got the hiccups now and then. But it wasn't real until I saw that perfect little profile on the screen in black and white. She was sucking her thumb. "She has my nose," Xander said in wonder, and I could swear he was right. Even though I know full well he had nothing to do with the whole thing. I was just caught up in the wonder, I guess.

The doctor agreed that it was probably a girl, although he warned us that these things weren't as accurate as amniocentesis. I didn't explain why we were so certain of the gender – he'd never understand. I didn't realize until they were wiping the gel off my belly that I'd been clinging to Xander's hand the whole time.

I'd lied when I'd told him I probably could have done this alone. I don't know how I'd have survived ten minutes without Xander there by my side. I decided then and there that, as far as I was concerned, this was going to be Xander's baby. Since I didn't really know who or what the father was, I could pick my own, and I picked him. He'd probably tease me about not picking him before the conception occurred, instead cutting him out of the fun and putting him in for the work. But he'd be smiling when he said that – real wide.

I love him. I don't know if I'm "in love" with him – I'm kinda hormonal at this point, and probably not qualified to make those kinds of decisions just yet. But I love him, and I have for years. I'm not sure why this comes as a revelation to me, but it does.

~**~

"Emmy," he said. We were standing in the doctor's parking lot, beside the truck. "We need to celebrate. I wanna buy you a new dress. A real maternity dress." I almost laughed – the Salvation Army maternity stuff had been even more God-awful than their regular stuff, so my wardrobe had been a bit limited lately. I did get some of those shorts with the stretch panel in the front, and a pair of jeans made that way, too. I was still small enough that I could wear some of Xander's big tee shirts on top, with only a little pulling in the front. I was able to wear a couple of pairs of my regular jeans until a couple of weeks ago, just slung low below the bulge, but that option was gone now. I owned one dress – a faded flowered cotton peasant thing that I had on today. My sandals, which were probably white once, were grimy and a bit gray. My hair, which had grown a lot, was in two braids. I think I had the white trash thing down about perfectly. I wonder what Cordelia Chase would say if she could see me now?

"Xa – Alan, we can't afford that," I protested.

"Yes, we can. I saw a pretty one in Wal-mart last week – let's go there." He gave me a lazy grin, and my heart actually skipped a beat. "Play your cards right, I'll even take you to McDonalds afterward."

I think I mentioned before how good this guy was looking lately. I kinda thought it might just be that I spent so much time looking at him and all. But I saw a girl watching us from across the way, and I could tell she was taking him in. He was wearing a really faded pair of Levi's, way tight across his butt, and one of those tank-type tee-shirts with an almost completely unbuttoned denim shirt on top. And his work boots – he didn't own any other shoes any more. While I made the Salvation Army clothes look seedy, he made them look sexy.

That girl drooling over him was really beginning to piss me off.I threw my arms around his neck, taking him completely by surprise. "You are the best husband a girl could have," I said, completely sincerely. I was channeling Emily or something. "I love you, Alan." And I kissed him, hard.

It took him a minute to overcome his shock and kiss me back. And as caught up in the moment as I was, I still couldn't resist opening one eye to catch the girl turning her back on us, shoulders a bit slumped in disappointment. *Mine,* I thought viciously in her direction, and I realized how much I meant that. He slid his hands down to rest on my hips, pulling me as close as my big belly would allow. It was so right, so pure. Like all things that good, it ended all too soon. I stayed in his arms a few moments, resting my head on his chest. "I love you too, Emily," he whispered, and I could tell that in his mind, he was calling me Buffy.

~**~

It was the most wonderful time we'd had since we left California, maybe even since we first met. We went to Wal-mart, and he made me try on just about every maternity dress they had in my size. We finally settled on a sophisticated looking dark blue two piece with a pullover blousy top and a straight skirt. The dressing room attendant even got into our quest, and she sucked in her breath when she saw me coming out in it. "Ohhh, honey, you are so goin' to knock his socks off in that one!" she crowed.

I turned this way and that in front of the three-way mirror. "I don't know where I'll ever wear it," I complained. "It's not like we can afford to go anywhere dressy."

"Sugar, you wear it for *him,*" she lectured me, peering out the door to check on Xander who was pacing outside. "Although the way he looks at you, he'd think you was beautiful in a flour sack." Her brown eyes twinkled, and I looked at her doubtfully.

"Come on. I'm big as a house, and my hair's a mess, and…"

"Girl! He loves you. Don't be stupid. He thought you was beautiful before you got pregnant, and he'll still think you are when he needs glasses and a hearing aid, I'd betcha. Go on and show it to him."

Sure enough, she was right. He insisted that it was *the* dress, even though it cost forty dollars. He was glowing, he was so proud. And I had to retreat into Emily, because I knew Buffy didn't deserve him, deserve this. Buffy would have never deigned to try on a forty-dollar dress – her belts cost more than that. Emily thought it was the best present she'd ever had, and loved the man willing to get it for her. Buffy had been selfish and stupid and never really seen what she had right in front of her all along. Emily lived for what she had – she had little enough to know what real treasure looked like. And her real treasure was contained in Alan. I decided I like Emily a whole lot better than Buffy – and that both Xander and Alan were gems.

Emily had a Big Mac for dinner, and came home and slept in her husband's arms, perfectly content. Buffy went to sleep that night, and I didn't plan on letting her wake up again for quite a while.

~**~

"Elaine," I called, "Where are the bigger bags? I'm out."

I now knew how she stayed afloat. Every couple of weeks, contractors from Columbia and Springfield would descend on the store, buying all the cool vintage-looking fixtures and accessories she stocked. She was south-central Missouri's answer to Restoration Hardware. And I was sure they could all go to Kansas City or St. Louis and get the same things, but Elaine had a loyal following, and I now had a regular paycheck without guilt. I loved the contractor days – I was busy as hell, and they all flirted innocently with me. I made sure I flashed my cheap wedding ring shamelessly, though. I mean, its not like any of them were interested in a very pregnant woman anyway, married or not. They were just being nice.

Only then, one of them came up behind me while I was bending over, and copped a feel of my butt. When I stood, he slid his arms around my ample waist. I was gonna…

"Hey, baby," he purred in my ear.

My mood changed in an instant. "Alan!" I squealed, whipping around in his arms and kissing him thoroughly. "What are you doing here?" I demanded, when he finally released me.

He shrugged. "We finished our contract, and they didn't want to begin the new project until Monday, so you're stuck with me for a few days." He jerked his thumb at one of the contractors. "Steve here is a friend of Dan's, and when he came by the site to visit and said he was heading here today, I grabbed a ride back with him." Alan and Dan usually carpooled, and the other man had driven today, leaving me the truck.

"Hey, Al," Elaine greeted him. "Stop fondling my help, would you? Here, Em, these are the bags you needed, aren't they?"

"So, Harper, you're the creep who knocked up this pretty lady," Steve teased my man. Only I would notice the shadow of sadness that crossed his handsome face at that. "Then you went and took her off the market so none of the rest of us could have her." I liked Steve. He always had a nice word for both Elaine and me and he even flirted gently with my boss, making her feel special. He was a good guy.

"I'll have you know I took her off the market first," Alan/Xander told him, defensively. We acted very much the married couple, in private as well as public, but when we slept together, we just slept. The subject of sex never came up, and right now, in my condition, that was probably for the best. Besides, I think Xander was holding out for Buffy, and he was aware that the one who was so affectionate was Emily. Or at least, she was the one willing to admit to her feelings. Covering his disappointment deftly, he turned to Elaine. "Could you use a little extra help today? I can't think of anyplace I'd rather hang out than with the prettiest lady in Rolla. Oh, and my wife," he jibed. I poked him in the ribs and grinned.

Elaine loved Alan, and was always telling me how lucky I was to have him. If only she knew how true her statement really was. "Sure. I never turn down a strong back and handsome smile," she teased back. "Even if it is just to help out at the store." Elaine had been a very young widow, and though she had a steady stream of various men coming through the hardware store that had been all her husband had left her, she never married again. She flirted, and teased, but if anyone tried to get serious with her, she politely but firmly gave him the cold shoulder. And more than a few had tried, if the stories were to be believed. She was close to fifty, but her confidant posture, soft silver hair and bright blue eyes gave her the look of a much younger woman. She had quickly become my best friend.

Little by little, talking with Elaine, I'd given Emily a history. I shared it all with 'Alan' so he'd know, too. I never went into great detail, so there wouldn't be a lot to remember, and she had just enough in common with Buffy to sound genuine in the telling. But Emily had met Alan when she was sixteen and been smart enough to see how wonderful he was from the first glance, unlike Buffy with Xander. Her parents were divorced, her mother had died just after she and Alan got married, and she had left a little sister behind with an 'uncle', too. Where 'behind' was never came up, nor did other identifying details. The feelings were more important than the facts, even in Elaine's book. I was lucky to have her, too.

I was counting the drawer while Alan and Elaine straightened the stock that evening. We'd had a good day, and he was helping her figure out what needed to be replenished. I stuck the money into the bank bag, then locked up the safe. When I turned around, Elaine was behind me. "Why don't you take the rest of the week off?" she suggested. "It'll be slow since the contractors were here today." Xander walked up, and she gave him that sly smile. "Besides, I probably won't get any work out of you with this guy hanging around distracting you all the time."

"You just can't stand to have anyone here who's prettier than you are," he grinned.

"If that were true, I'd've never hired your wife," she shot back.

"Whoop! Two points for Elaine," he hooted, then slipped his arm around my waist. "I can't argue with that logic." He kissed the top of my head.

It hit me like a bolt of lightning – I'd never been truly happy before. Buffy's happiness was always tinged with the tragic – sleeping with Angel and turning him into a murderer; keeping Riley at arm's length until he finally just gave up and went away; winning the battle with Glory just to have to leave home and friends behind. Except Xander, thank God. But I was ecstatically happy right now, as Emily. I didn't want to go back. I'd run forever, if he'd run with me. I missed our life back home, but I didn't, at the same time. I finally had everything I ever wanted. And Buffy, still sleeping in my brain, roused herself enough to predict, "It can't last." I tried to ignore her.

~**~


	3. Part Three

Somewhere On The Road To Nowhere 3

Part Three

~**~

"Goood-bye, Earl…" I was singing happily at the top of my lungs. I don't have a great singing voice, but I can carry a tune, and even harmonized a little with the Dixie Chicks. It was sign that I'd really become Emily – Buffy would rather die than listen to country music, but here I was singing along. I even knew all the words. The tune switched to some new Travis Tritt song I didn't know the words to yet, and I turned it down. Good God – I even knew all the artist's names.

"That song always gives me the creeps," my husband said from the driver's seat.

"'Goodbye Earl?' Why? It's funny."

"Yeah, right. A funny little song about spousal abuse and murder."

"Ewww – when you put it that way, it makes me think of Pete and Debbie, back in high school."

He studied me for a moment, his face serious. "Emily didn't know Pete and Debbie."

It was raining buckets. We were on the highway, coming back from a day in Jefferson City. I don't know why we even went – we had a day off, picked a direction, and drove. We were starting to feel at home here, and wanted to see more of the surrounding area, I guess. We went past the site Alan's crew had just finished work on, and he pointed it out to me proudly. Looked like all the rest of the highway to me, but I pretended to be impressed.

I pouted. "What's that crack supposed to mean?" Maybe he was unhappy with Emily. I liked her, myself. She was normal, and happy, and all the things I'd always wanted to be. "You don't like Emily? You created her."

"No. You did. And I love her. Because she's you." He'd pulled over underneath an overpass. It was raining pretty hard, and visibility was poor, but I think it was also so we could have this talk. I was a little nervous. "You see, the thing is, I love you. I always have, since the first time I saw you. I, Xander, love you, Buffy. And I, Alan, love you Emily. No matter who you are, you're still you, and I love you. Hell, I think Alan probably loves Buffy and Xander loves Emily. But Emily loves Alan. Period. And I think it started as an act, but it's taken over. You don't love me, you love this picture of me that goes with this fake you that you've created. I'm not sure I can live with that." He sighed. I could see him thinking, hard. "Although if it's the only way, I will. You, this baby – if Alan's the only one who can have them, then I'll be Alan with all my heart." The windows were getting all steamed up. I could see tears on his face.

I scooted over to the middle of the bench seat. "Hey," I said, softly, wiping his face. Then I froze. I was behaving like Emily, not Buffy. I was going to cajole him, and sweet talk him, the way Emily and Alan did when they fought. But he was right, it wasn't really me. Buffy and Xander always talked it out – sometimes, they yelled it out. I hadn't been Buffy for a while, and wasn't sure I wanted to remember how, but I'd do it for him.

"Alan's a whole lot more Xander than Emily is Buffy," I admitted, pulling away a little. "You've always been strong, no matter what your name is. But as Emily, I was allowed to finally fully lean on someone else, to be weak once in a while. I had a normal life – things I thought I'd never have. A husband, a baby on the way," I patted my belly. "I got to sleep nights and work days. I could live, and love, and laugh and cry, and the world's future didn't depend on the outcome. I could have you." I stopped and smiled through the tears I was beginning to form when I saw his shocked face.

"The first time I saw you, I thought you were a doll. But Willow wanted you, and I wanted to fit in with you guys more than I wanted a new boyfriend. Then you belonged to Cordy, then Anya. And in between I had Angel and Riley. All I ever wanted was this nice, normal life, with a nice normal guy. You were always one of the best candidates, but never available when I needed you." I was crying by now, too. "And I got scared a few times, when it might have been possible, and pushed you away. This was a chance to start fresh – with Alan. But I was Emily, so I gave Emily and Alan the storybook romance I'd always wanted for you and me." I was sure some of this stuff would never have been said aloud if we weren't in this position. "I do love you. But it'll never work for Buffy and Xander. There's too much Chosen One and prophecy stuff to get in the way."

"What kind of storybooks did you read as a kid?We're practically starving, and we live in the worst part of town. Your clothes are ragged, and we hold this truck together with chewing gum and prayer. I would never subject you to this, as Buffy *or* as Emily, if I had any control. Even *I* wasn't this poor back in Sunnydale."

"And you know, I woulda thought that mattered, before we left. It hasn't even bothered me. When I had it all, I was missing all the really good stuff. I wouldn't trade what Alan and Emily have together for all the stuff Cordelia had when her dad was on top. Wouldn't be worth the sacrifice required." I was scooting back over towards him, and he was scooting towards me. His arms wrapped around me.

"You know, if we ever make it back, we're gonna make it work as Buffy and Xander. We have to. I can't give this, you, up. I love you so much." He kissed me, first gently, then with more passion. Now, that was a much better way to steam up the windows. 

"I love you, too, Xander."

~**~

It was going to be soon, I knew that much. I could feel it – the baby had dropped, and I was starting to have some new and interesting pains now and then. We'd gone downtown for ice cream, a special treat. We'd been saving our money like crazy, because the secondhand store (a step up from Salvation Army) had a beautiful crib we wanted desperately. Afterwards, I wished we'd just stayed home and watched TV. Maybe we could've gotten a Popsicle from the Good Humor man.

Anyway, we were sharing a double scoop of chocolate fudge swirl when we heard it. The sound of people scuffling with vampires is one you never forget – the desperate thrashing, the muffled cries. Xander dropped the cup on the sidewalk, and we both dashed into the alleyway.

The guy they were after wasn't much older than we were, but nowhere near as strong as Xander was, and the leader was just about to start draining him. Xander's fist to his nose distracted him from that task. "Emmy, find a stake!" he commanded, blocking a punch from the angry vamp, who hadn't expected an interruption to his meal.

The two others there dismissed me as harmless; to be eaten after my husband was disposed of. I started looking desperately, my eyes lighting quickly on a broken old packing crate. I tore two rough stakes loose – one for me, one for Xander. "Al," I hollered, and when he looked over, I tossed it. "Here." Unfortunately, the three vampires now surrounded him, and one stake wasn't going to be all that much help. The guy we saved was passed out by the other wall. No help there, either. I had to wade in.

The first one was easy – he didn't expect anything coming from behind him, and I sank the stake into his heart from the rear like a hot knife into butter. The swoosh of a demon turning to dust was music to my ears. But that drew attention to me from the other two, which was a bad thing. I still seemed to have Slayer strength and reflexes, but they were packed into a body that was days away from delivering a baby, and protecting that baby was my primary concern.

Their loss of focus was Xander's gain. He got the other sidekick easily when he stopped paying attention. Gotta love dumb vamps. Unfortunately, that left the toughest one still one to one with the only other person that mattered to me as much as my baby. And there really wasn't much I could do.

"Back off, Em. I have him." I knew he could do it, but he hadn't in months. Still, my body chose that moment to have a massive contraction. Nice timing. I had no choice but to back off, like he'd said to. I moved awkwardly and leaned against the wall next to the still unconscious original victim.

The big guy knew how to block a stake, and was doing so, getting in some nasty strikes in between blocks. But Xander wasn't doing too bad with his own kicks and even landed a couple of punches. I'd really never been able to watch him fight before – I was always a bit busy at the same time. He was darn good. I decided that if and when we got back I was gonna make Giles train Xand too. He'd learned a lot already just from watching and doing.

The contraction must have been a fluke – one of those Braxton-Hix things the doctor had mentioned I might have way before real labor started. I was feeling stronger, and my knight in shining armor was starting to look a bit weaker. He had a nasty bruise on his cheek, and there was blood running from his hairline into one eye. He was holding his own, but I didn't want him hurt any further, and the vamp seemed to have forgotten me. I moved as quietly as I could into position to stake him again from behind, but at this point, I was about as graceful as a baby elephant. He heard me.

Without even looking back, he swung his big old arm around and caught me across the chest. I went flying through the air and slammed into the wall I had recently been leaning against. Whew. For a moment, I thought Xander was fighting two more vampires, until I realized I was seeing two more Xanders as well.

All three of them lost it at that point, and really began whaling on the big guys. "That," he screamed, coming back into my focus as an single individual, "was my WIFE you just backhanded." He threw a sucker punch into the big vamp's stomach, doubling him over. "She's carrying my BABY." He landed a solid roundhouse, and I heard the distinctive sound of a breaking jaw. The vampire fell backwards, and Xander's knee was in his solar plexus before he knew what hit him. Kneeling atop him, my husband spit out, "My first." Then he staked him, and collapsed into a heap when the guy beneath him turned to dust.

"Xander!" I screamed, running to him and pulling his head into my lap. He looked up at me woozily.

"Don't you mean Alan?"

"Oh, God, you had me so scared. Are you okay? You were wonderful. I love you, you know. I'm so proud you're my baby's daddy." I was smoothing his hair and peppering his face with kisses as I babbled. Then I started crying. "I wanted our baby to be born here, and now we have to leave," I wailed, finally realizing what we'd just done.

"No, you don't," another voice assured me. I looked at the other guy in the alley, but he was still unconscious. "I can pull some strings, and fix it so nobody knows what happened. Vamps do die without Slayers on occasion." I turned my head, and managed to make out a figure in the shadows. He stepped out, and I recognized him. "You'll have to go home after she's born, though. Faith's driving the librarian up a wall."

"Whistler," I said. He bowed. "We can't go home. The demons that wanted our baby dead won't stop just because she's little and cute."

"But they will stop when they realize she doesn't quite fulfill the prophecy," he answered. I scowled at him, knowing that couldn't be true.

"The baby in the prophecy was to born of a Slayer, not a Slayer and a normal guy," he went on.

"But there was no guy involved," I insisted.

The demon waved his hand at Xander, who was showing signs of being pretty alert by this time. "Him."

"No," Xander protested, "We just *call* it our baby. I had nothing to do with it. Trust me, I would have remembered."

"Ah, but you did. In fact, you're affectionately known now by TPTB as 'the guy who screws up prophecies.' The child was to be born of the Slayer and the life-power of a god. Glory, to be exact. But you threw yourself into the mix, and the child now has your genetics, too. She'll still be a Slayer – probably an invincible one, with the whole god-power thing in the deal. But she won't be the Finality. She might be the one to carry it, but that would still be a long way off, and I'm not gonna worry about it now. I'd suggest you two don't, either. You're gonna have enough to do – soon." He looked at his watch. "REAL soon."

Another contraction seized my body, bringing tears to my eyes. So much for the Braxton-Hix theory. "Can I drive you to the hospital?" the demon asked us. "As long as that damn truck isn't stick-shift."

Xander had that stunned look on his face again. "She really IS my baby," he was muttering. "Poor kid probably *does* have my nose." I fished the keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Whistler. "Rolla Medical Center," I said, helping the father of my baby to his feet. "Mine," he grinned, patting my belly.

~**~

Well, Xander and I make beautiful babies together. Now that her skin isn't so red and that funny shape her head had at first seems to be flattening out, she's perfectly gorgeous. He bought a disposable camera and has been running around here like a Japanese tourist, snapping pictures constantly. Actually, I think he must have bought a couple of those cameras. I'm pretty sure he's already used up all the pictures on the one I threatened to destroy in the delivery room, so this has to be a new one. I do kinda wish I had a shot of the color green he turned right after I delivered the placenta, though.

Next time, I plan to take drugs. Lots of them. Natural childbirth is highly overrated. Although I was glad I wasn't asleep when they put her into my arms for the first time. Her little eyes were all scrunched closed from the bright lights, and both Xand and I were amazed at those tiny little fingers. I can tell he's in love already. I'm just tired. Oh, and I'm in love, too. I'm just too tired to do much about it.

Emily Elaine Harper. Eight pounds, 6 ounces. Twenty-one inches long. The most perfect baby ever. We'll have to name the next one after Willow. Unless of course it's a boy. Willow's a funny name for a boy. But once we get home, Willow will love her no matter what her name is, and I wanted to remember both of those women, Emily and Elaine. I don't want to forget my life here. Ever.

We've already decided there will be a next one. Maybe a couple more. And I've promised Xander he'll have a more active role in the conception next time, too. He didn't seem to object to that. The labor nurse was laughing at us, talking about the next one in the delivery room. She said most women are swearing he'll never touch her again. I couldn't very well say he hadn't really touched me *yet*, now could I?

I'm really tired. They're gonna let me sleep for a few hours before we have to leave. We do have insurance, but it only covers about half a day after delivery. Geez. I've already fed little Em, and the nurse has warned me to sleep whenever I could for the next couple of years or more, so I'll continue this later.

~**~

Home. I can't believe we're back. It's been a really long day.

I didn't have much time to write after Emmy was born. We had a lot to do. We called Giles, collect, from the hospital – he'd been worried about us, but wasn't surprised to hear the baby had been born. He *was* surprised to hear what Whistler had told us about her genetic makeup, though. He echoed the demon in the demand that we return to Sunnydale.. I could hear his frustration with Faith in his voice. He put her on the phone next.

"Hey, B! I knew you couldn't be dead – you're too tough. Things aren't as much fun around here without you to run with. When you comin' home?"

"Faith, I just had a baby. I won't be running with anyone for a long time. You're going to have to cover for me for a while longer."

"So I take it you finally found out about Xander there firsthand, huh?"

"Actually, he is the father, but, no, we still haven't actually slept together."

"Turkey baster?" God, Faith hadn't gotten over 'crude' while in the slammer.

"I'm sure if you don't embarrass him too much, Giles can explain it to you. Would you put him back on? Xander needs to talk to him."

I only half listened while Xander made arrangements with my Watcher to reclaim our real identities. I was packing my few things, and Emmy's stuff. She was in the bassinette, and Elaine was bouncing a little toy over her head, trying to get her attention. I could tell I'd have another long explanation to go through with her after Xander got off the phone. But then he said something that caught my attention fully. "Dawnie? It's okay, baby. Stop crying. Yeah, we're still alive. I know, I'm sorry. It was the only way. I know. Yeah. Yeah, she's right here, hold on."

By that time I was right beside him, about to snatch the phone out of his hand anyway. "Dawn?"

She was still bawling. "Oh, God, Buffy, I thought you were dead. First mom, then you. It was awful."

"I know. Like Xander said, we're sorry. But if I hadn't done it this way, I might really have ended up dead. As it is, I have a brand new niece for you to take care of."

"So you really had a baby? You and Xander? That's – well, it's kind of cool." She was just sniffling now. "Didja name her after me?"

"No, but we had good reason. The next one will be after you and Willow."

"You're pregnant again already?"

"Did you have to scream that?" I could hear Giles and Faith making incredulous noises in the background. "No, you twit. We're just making plans." I heard her cover the receiver and calm the others down. When she came back, I told her, "We've gotta go now, the hospital wants my room. I'll call you again soon. Love you."

"Love you. Hey, Buffy?"

"What?"

"What *is* her name?"

~**~

Elaine insisted on buying us that crib we wanted. We gave her a highly edited version of who we really were and what was going on, which made me wonder why Xander hadn't gotten a better grade in creative writing in school. We promised to write her, and I intend to.

"Alan" went and resigned from his job, explaining that I was homesick for my family now the baby was here. A perfectly reasonable excuse to leave, and they bought it. They even gave him a nice envelope of money they'd collected as a baby gift.

We paid out the week on the apartment, and gave notice. We closed our bank account and packed the coffeemaker and the crib in the back of the truck. Saying our traditional "dear God let this truck make it there" prayer before we left, we headed towards California.

This time we traveled in style. Giles had sent us a credit card along with the papers verifying us as once again Buffy Anne Summers and Alexander LaVelle Harris, and we stayed in the lap of luxury for us – clean, national chain hotels. Most even had their own coffeemakers in the rooms. None of them were actually fancy, but we never spent long in any of the places we stayed, anyway. Now that we were going home, we were in a hurry to get there.

Xander leaned on the horn when we crossed the California state line, waking Emmy in her car seat between us and making her cry. But I was whooping and cheering, too, and she soon started looking at Mommy like she'd never seen anything so silly. Before long, Xander was making faces at her, and she was giggling. He could always make her laugh, just like he always did me.

He'd called Willow before we left Missouri, and there were many tears on both ends of the line. She was a little angry at both of us, but soon forgave us, with Willow-typical grace. He'd shaved, for the first time in almost a year. I'd had my hair cut back up to my shoulders, although it was still brown. We felt we'd done all we could to be ready, but I think we both had butterflies in our stomachs when we pulled up in front of the Magic Box.

Xander jumped out of the cab and came around to my side. I unstrapped Emmy and handed her to daddy, then climbed out uncertainly. Looking up into his face, I saw the same hesitation there. We'd been through so much; we'd changed. We were parents. We'd been on our own. Did we even still belong here? Pressing Emmy between us, we hugged, sharing our strength. Then we turned and went inside.

They swarmed all over us, like ants on a jellybean melting on the sidewalk. Giles was there, and Faith, Willow and Tara. Dawn, of course. I was really surprised to see Angel, Cordelia and Wesley, though. And – "Amy!" Xander said. "You're you again!" She smiled and waved, but I could tell she thought it was a story for later. Right now was about us. Us, and Emmy.

I was shocked when Faith swooped in and took the baby from Xander's arms first. She tickled her tummy, making her giggle. "You guys do great work," she said happily. Maybe the slammer had changed Faith some. "She's beautiful."

"We think so, but we are a bit biased," Xander agreed. Emmy rolled her navy blue eyes at her father's comment, and Faith laughed like a child, leaving me speechless.

"She's smart, too." Moving to hand the baby back, she was intercepted by both Willow and Dawn at the same time, and Faith left it to them to fight it out over who got her next. "Take good care of her – of both of them," she warned, leaving Xander as stunned as I'd been by her laugh.

It appeared Willow had won, but Dawn wasn't going to move far from her new niece. I was heading over to talk to her when the front door blew open, and another surprise breezed in. "Oz," I gasped. He strode across the room and kissed – well, a different witch than I would have expected.

"Oh yeah," Willow offered, "I forgot to tell you Oz is back. He was actually instrumental in de-ratting Amy, and they're dating now." Wow – and we hadn't even been gone a year.

We did know not to expect to see Anya – after Xander's "death" she'd had a hard time dealing, and finally had found comfort in the strangest of places. Apparently, she and Spike had moved to Europe together.

It was good to be back. We talked to everyone, and invited them all to our wedding. We'd already decided that the first possible chance we were getting married – for real, this time. We'd called long distance and made arrangements with the minister before we left Missouri. I didn't have a dress, but I'd scrape something up. It was too important to wait.

~**~

Well, this is it. Actually, since I'm officially back now, Giles is keeping his Watcher's Diary on both me and Faith again, but this just wouldn't be complete without the wedding, so this will be my last entry.

I found a really nice dress on such short notice. It's tea-length, and pretty simple. Dawn's my maid of honor, and she found a pretty burgundy dress in a similar fabric, which is great. We even found a similar little white dress for Emmy. It was meant to be.

Angel offered us the mansion gardens for the ceremony, but that place is full of unpleasant memories, so we're doing this in the college chapel. I suppose they think we're crazy to get married at nine o'clock at night, but Angel really wanted to attend.

He and Cordelia are so cute together. Yeah – another change that's taken place while we were gone. They seem happy – right now, they're hard at work looking for a way around his curse. I hope they find it, too. He deserves to be happy, for once. Now that I am, I think the world should share the joy.

Xander looks incredibly hot in his tux. I now know what caused Willow to fall those years ago. I can't wait to get my hands on him tonight. Yeah – we still haven't slept together yet. We figured we were so close to the wedding at this point, we'd just wait. Kind of uncharacteristically traditional.

Giles came and got me for the ceremony, and I couldn't help but look over my friends as we stood at the back of the chapel. Most of them were couples now – Willow and Tara, Oz and Amy, Angel and Cordy. Xander and me. Oh, God, I love that man.

Dawn stood at the front of the chapel, having entered already with Emmy in her arms instead of flowers. Willow was on the other side, acting as Xander's best maid. He just couldn't think of anyone else he wanted as his best man, and since she was gay, he figured it worked, in a warped way. She refused to wear a tux, though. Her dress was identical to Dawn's.

People keep telling me it was a beautiful ceremony. I don't remember a damned thing. Music – I remember pretty music. Emmy cried somewhere in the middle of the vows, but Dawn got her to calm down. And Xander kissed me, I remember that. We have real rings now, not the cheap things we wore as Emily and Alan. He's finally really mine.

Elaine came, all the way from Missouri. I think it may have been a wedding present from Giles. I also think she kind of likes him – maybe we could add a new couple to the list soon. Our other wedding present from him was a paper declaring Emmy to be legally named Emily Elaine Harris.

I have to go now – we have a suite waiting at the Sunnydale Hilton. A wedding present from the L.A. gang. Our wedding present from Dawn is a week's babysitting. From Tara and Willow, another week. Faith gave me a filmy negligee – trust Faith to have sex on the brain. Not that I don't, right now. 

My only regret is that mom missed this. She always liked Xander, and would probably be thrilled for us. She probably is, wherever she's watching us from.

I will be forever grateful that I got to know Alan Leonard Harper. If I hadn't, I would never have gotten to really know Alexander LaVelle Harris. My lover, my friend, my husband. The father of my child. The best thing that ever happened to me.

The rest of my story is up to Giles to tell. But my life has gone so far beyond the Slayer thing, I may never see myself the same again. I came home, and found it was a person, not a place. I found new purpose to my life, as a mother, a wife, a friend. I am, and will forever remain,

Buffy Anne Harris

~**~


End file.
